Anarion's Heir, Arrien the Fair
by Kimi-chan09
Summary: Arrien is a woman of many things..dunedain, elven and men lineage, and the heir of the long broken line of Kings of Gondor. Born in T.A. 2958, she has learned many skills in her long life. But her destiny leads to War and a certain horse-lord. Movie/book.
1. Prologue

Prologue

"It is good to see you, Gandalf," Lord Celeborn greeted, his silver hair flowing over his shoulders. Galadriel, his wife, was standing at his side looking the Queen she was. "We were not expecting you, but you are always welcomed within our court here in Lothlorien."

"Gandalf, our old friend, who is the lady standing behind you?" asked the tall, golden-haired Lady. Her bright eyes seeing everything within her domain.

Gandalf, clad in his grey cloaks bowed, "I come with a favor of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood. This lady is with child and she needs the protection of the elves. The child she carries is the last descendant of Earnur before he was lost to the Witch-King. With your blessings, the child will be a strong ally in the future of Middle-Earth."

Lord Celeborn nodded in understanding as Lady Galadriel walked forward towards the woman, whom was standing meekly while they discussed her.

"Come here, child. Let me see you," Galadriel spoke gently but with obvious authority. Timid as a mouse, she moved forward to stand beneath the Lady's steady gaze. With a curtsey, she showed the respect the elf-woman deserved since she could not bow with her enlarged stomach.

"My Lady," the woman spoke softly. "Gandalf has told me many wonderful things about the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood. Lothlorien is truly a lovely place."

"Indeed, such kind words of our forest is always greatly appreciated. Tell me, what is your name?" Galadriel replied with a smile, as the men looked on.

"Ariel, my Lady," the woman replied kindly.

"It is a beautiful name," Galadriel spoke. She watched as a blush took over the young woman's face. "Befitting for one as yourself."

"Thank you, Lady Galadriel."

Galadriel's smile widened slightly as she brought her fingers to Ariel's chin to lift her face to hers. Ariel's face was fair as her Elven blood permitted and her eyes a deep blue, all her features were delicate as Galadriel observed her. Her hair was a golden-brown that shone in the beams of sunlight filtering through the trees.

"Your child will be faced with many perils and troubled times but do not worry, she will be stronger than all before her. Within her veins the blood of her Elven ancestors will be the strongest of all in her line. Her destiny is a great one but her path hard, she will travel and learn many in the wild," Galadriel spoke as her palm rested on Ariel's stomach.

"My child is a girl?" Arien questioned, her eyes shining with joy for she wished for a girl but would love any child regardless.

"Yes. What shall you name her?" Galadriel asked, her own eyes shining at the vision that had sped in her mind's eye.

"Arrien, I think. 'Ar' means High or Noble and 'rien' means Queen in Sindarin, correct?" At Galadriel's nod, she continued. "My daughter shall be a Noble Queen of Men."

"It will suit her well, Lady Ariel," Galadriel said, smiling. Ariel returned her smile, hope long lost filling her heart once more.


	2. Chapter 1 Marshals of the Mark

Chapter I

Marshals of the Mark

"Lord Éomer, we are ready to ride," Eothain informed the Third Marshal of the Riddermark.

"Then let us go. We are to offer support for Theodred near the Gap of Rohan," Éomer said, mounting his steed Firefoot. With a call to his men, they set off at a gallop towards their destination.

-:- -:- -:- -:-

"Théodred, it is good to see you," Éomer greeted. "What news do you have?"

"There is a band of Orcs roaming free near these parts," Théodred informed. "There are too many for my men alone which is why I have need of the strength of you and your men." Éomer nodded.

"When shall we leave?" Éomer asked.

"As soon as the men are prepared." With that agreed, they set about readying themselves for the battle to come.

-:- -:- -:- -:-

Arrien stooped down on the riverbank that led near the Gap of Rohan. Her crème-colored palomino stallion bent to drink from the waters as she filled her water skins. It had been a long day of riding for them both and they were tired. The moon overhead cast an ethereal glow on her and her steed. After getting his fill, Lagorfaer meaning Swift Spirit in Sindarin, went to lay at the base of the tree-line staying in view of his Lady. Smiling at her dear friend, she remained sitting on the grass near the flowing water. Looking upwards at the glowing moon, she spoke softly.

"Shall I sing for you, my friend?" Arrien questioned and with a neigh from her companion, she began:

_Ai! Laurië lantar lassi súrinen,_

_Yéni únótime ve rámar aldaron!_

_Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier_

_Mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva_

_Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar_

_Nu luini yassen tintular I eleni_

_ómaryo airetári-lírinen._

_Sí man I yulma nin enquantuva?_

_An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo_

_Ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë,_

_Ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë;_

_Ar sindanóriello caita mornië_

_i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië_

_Untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë._

_Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!_

_Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar._

_Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!_

-:- -:- -:- -:-

Théodred was searching for firewood in the forest for the camp the men had set up for the night. It was the night following their battle with the Orc company and a few of the men were injured in the fight, including his cousin Éomer. He had taken an arrow to the shoulder and it was poisoned so he was with fever. As Théodred bent to collect another stick, he heard singing from an unknown female. He was able to discern it was being sung in Elvish, though he had never met an elf in his life. He followed the angelic voice towards the river and upon clearing the thicker trees, he saw a hooded and cloaked figure sitting on the bank. Judging by the voice it was female. His train of thought was broken when the woman stopped singing and spoke to him.

"Unless you fear a lone female, there is no reason to hide," she spoke softly.

"It is not that, merely your voice held me in a trance. Tell me, Lady, who are you and why is it that you are alone?" he asked, walking towards her slowly still cautious of the mysterious woman.

"I have many names but the one bestowed upon me at birth is Arrien. As for the reason I am alone, it is as I wish it to be," Arrien said, slowly rising from her sitting position. "Though, I am not alone. My stallion, Lagorfaer, is with me. He is resting near the tree-line."

"I see. My name is Théodred, son of King Théoden of Rohan. Are you an elf-maiden as you appear to me?" A soft laughing like bells met his inquiry.

"No, Théodred, I am no elf. Why do you ask? It is not for the simple fact I sung in Elvish a moment ago," she replied, turning to face him. His tall stature and long, dark hair greeted her. She could not discern the color of his eyes but they were strong and held her attention.

"Indeed not, my Lady. My men and I fought a large group of Orcs earlier this day and a few were injured. Nothing too serious but my cousin was struck with an arrow laced with poison. He suffers from a severe fever and I hoped you could help him. I have heard many great and marvelous things about elves and thought if you were one, you may help. But alas, it seems not so. Pardon me for intruding upon you," he informed and his voice betrayed the grief he felt at her answer.

"I am no elf but I do have elven blood within my veins. I also have some knowledge in healing and medicine. If you trust me to help your cousin, I see no reason I cannot. Lead the way, Lord Théodred, if you will," she replied, awaiting his answer.

"Yes, I would greatly appreciate it and be in your debt." He bowed with the gathered wood still in his arms. Arrien too, nodded.

"You heard him, Lagorfaer. Let us go," she said and her steed joined her before they followed after the man.

-:- -:- -:- -:-

Every man who saw Théodred, the Second Marshal of the Mark enter the camp followed by a hooded figure and a horse, had their curiosity piqued. Their Lord had went into the forest for wood and returned with a stranger. After setting the wood next to the fire for when they needed it, Théodred told one of his men not to disturb them for they would be seeing to Éomer's wound. Arrien followed him silently to a tent set aside from the others and it was easily viewed as Théodred and Éomer's as the highest ranking of all the men. Théodred entered the tent and held the flap open for Arrien to enter after him. He then turned to his cousin, whom was awake but flushed from the effects of the fever.

"Éomer, my dear cousin, I have brought someone who can help you," Théodred said as he kneeled next to his cousin's cot.

"Lord Éomer, I bid you not to be wary of me. I shall help you to the best of my abilities. First, let me have a look at your shoulder," she said gently, hoping Éomer would not object.

She advanced on them slowly as she undid her cloak and shed it from her shoulders. In the candlelight of the tent, the two men saw the woman clearly. She was fair of face, her deep blue eyes seeing more than their own, and her hair a dark brown looking as made of the finest silk. Unlike most women they knew, she wore a silver-blue tunic in the elven fashion and black leggings made complete with black leather boots. Théodred and Éomer alike heard their intakes of breath but the woman before them showed no sign of hearing it as well, though they were sure she did. She discarded the small bag at her side but still held it as she sat on the edge of the cot. She was seated on his left side as Théodred was on his right, giving her a closer look for it was Éomer's left shoulder that held the injury. Her eyes scanned his wound closely for it was now bare to her eyes.

"His wound is not above my abilities. I can heal him fully and he will sustain no permanent damage to his shoulder," Arrien declared. "Théodred, I need you to wait outside." He opened his mouth to object but she further explained, "I know you have just met me but believe me when I tell you I am a friend of your father's and I will not bring harm to your cousin." Théodred wavered under her intense gaze and looked to his kin.

"Éomer, I trust in this woman. Let her do her deeds for we have little choice," he counseled his cousin who was as a brother to him. Éomer gave a small nod and with that only two remained.

"Why did you not wish for him to remain," questioned Éomer, his voice weak with illness.

"I did not think you would like the audience for I must withdraw the poison from your wound," she informed and at his confused expression, gave him a pointed look. She watched his face turn more red that had little to do with his fever but was not one to point it out. "Your wound has begun to heal, therefore I must reopen it slightly."

She unsheathed a knife from her boot and held it over his wound. Her left hand pressed his shoulder slightly a few inches from his wound as she stabbed his shoulder enough to open it back up. Discarding the knife to the stand nearby, she picked up a small empty basin to put the extracted poison in. Grabbing his left hand with her right as a gesture of comfort, she leaned forward and covered his bleeding wound with her mouth. Éomer fidgeted under her but her left hand prevented too much movement. After each withdrawal, she discarded the poison into the basin. Once she received nothing but blood, she pulled away to find Éomer facing away from her breathing deeply.

She turned away from him to give him time to collect himself as she fetched the Athelas leaves she had in a leather pouch. Chewing on them until tasting their pungent flavor she took them out and pressed them to his open injury after wiping the excess blood from his skin. Retrieving cloth that was often used to wrap injuries, she wove it around his wound as she called out.

"Théodred, you may enter now." Not needing to turn around or look over her shoulder to know Théodred entered for she heard the ruffle of the tent's flap open and shut, she continued, "My task is done. Your cousin will be alright but I strongly suggest not allowing him to use his shoulder too much."

"Do not worry, I will not let him use it at all," Théodred said, with a light of teasing in his eyes as he sat on his cot a few feet from his cousin's.

"He needs much rest," she instructed, glancing at him.

"Perhaps he will rest peacefully if you sing him to sleep," Théodred suggested, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

Arrien raised a thin brow, "You wish for me to sing him to sleep?" He nodded before laying down as Éomer watched the two talk. "Fine, let me think…" Once a song came to mind, she began:

_The leaves were long, the grass was green,_

_The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,_

_And in the glade a light was seen_

_Of stars in shadow shimmering._

_Tinuviel was dancing there_

_To music of a pipe unseen,_

_And light of stars was in her hair,_

_And in her raiment glimmering._

_There Beren came from mountains cold,_

_And lost he wandered under leaves,_

_And where the Elven-river rolled_

_He walked alone and sorrowing._

_He peered between the hemlock-leaves_

_And saw in wonder flowers of gold_

_Upon her mantle and her sleeves,_

_And her hair like shadow following._

_Enchantment healed his weary feet_

_That over hills were doomed to roam;_

_And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,_

_And grasped at moonbeams glistening. _

_Through woven woods in Elvenhome_

_She lightly fled on dancing feet,_

_And left him lonely still to roam_

_In the silent forest listening._

_He heard there oft the flying sound_

_Of feet as light as linden-leaves,_

_Or music welling underground,_

_In hidden hollows quavering._

_Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,_

_And one by one with sighing sound_

_Whispering fell the beechen leaves_

_In the wintry woodland wavering._

_He sought her ever, wandering far_

_Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,_

_By light of moon and ray of star_

_In frosty heavens shivering._

_Her mantle glinted in the moon,_

_As on a hill-top high and far_

_She danced, and at her feet was strewn_

_A mist of silver quivering._

_When winter passed, she came again,_

_And her song released the sudden spring,_

_Like rising lark, and falling rain,_

_And melting water bubbling._

_He saw the elven-flowers spring_

_About her feet, and healed again_

_He longed by her to dance and sing_

_Upon the grass untroubling._

_Again she fled, but swift he came._

_Tinuviel! Tinuviel!_

_He called her by her elvish name;_

_And there she halted listening._

_One moment stood she, and a spell_

_His voice laid on her: Beren came,_

_And doom fell on Tinuviel_

_That in his arms lay glistening._

_As Beren looked into her eyes _

_Within the shadows of her hair,_

_The trembling starlight of the skies_

_He saw there mirrored shimmering._

_Tinuviel the elven-fair,_

_Immortal maiden elven-wise,_

_About him cast her shadowy hair_

_And arms like silver glimmering._

_Long was the way that fate them bore,_

_O'er stony mountains cold and grey,_

_Through halls of iron and darkling door,_

_And woods of nightshade morrow-less._

_The Sundering Seas between them lay,_

_And yet at last they met once more,_

_And long ago they passed away_

_In the forest singing sorrow-less."_

Arrien finished and saw both men now asleep, their breathing even. A small smile grew on her face as she went to stand. A hand grabbed her own, halting her and she looked back at Éomer whose eyes were only half-open. She knew he would fall back to sleep in a moment or two.

"Thank you, my Lady," he said quietly, his voice raspy. "For everything. Tell me, what was that song speaking of?"

"The legendary undying love of Beren, son of Barahir and Luthien Tinuviel. She was an elf who chose mortality so she could be with her true love, a mortal man," she replied softly. "Sleep now, Lord Éomer, son of Éomund and Théodwyn." His face scrunched in confusion at her knowing his parents' names but she only leaned down and placed a gentle kiss upon his brow. "We shall meet again one day." And with that, he fell asleep with his last image of her back as she exited the tent with her possessions.


End file.
